The First Hero
by Aniralynn
Summary: Calypso as she goes through meeting Leo and losing him, as she realizes things and curses the gods. FOR THE LOVE OF GODS, DO NOT READ IT IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE HOUSE OF HADES. SPOILERS. If you come to me whining about spoilers, I WILL slap you through the internet.


_**Hey guys, I realize for the few people following me, this isn't in the normal realm for me to write, but I just finished The House of Hades, and I had to write this.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Leo, Calypso, or anything to do with the Percy Jackson universe, otherwise I would not struggle to buy a teapot.**_

_**DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE HOUSE OF HADES. If you do, and you come whining to me about spoilers, I will reach through this computer and slap you.**_

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Calypso knew she was going to be stuck on this island with the scrawny excuse for a hero until the curse forced her to fall in love with him, or at least made her think she was in love with him. She didn't tell him that though, she saw the way he looked at her in the first two seconds he saw her, she didn't want to give him that hope. Honestly, he had probably never even been kissed before. She had lost track of the years she had spent on this island, and the difference in the flow of time didn't help, but she was pretty sure he was not the type most girls fawned over. She had to admit though, he was useful.

She finally decided to take pity on him after he had fixed most of the stuff that needed fixing without her even asking, although she told herself it was to stop that infernal banging sound coming from just beyond her line of sight. She had grown tired of making him new clothes every day, so she brought him the fire-proof clothes, and the look on his face when he saw the jacket was almost enough to make her blush. His gratitude amazed her, even after how awful she had been to him.

She decided to help him with whatever he was building, just to get him off her island, at least that was what she told herself. It wasn't until the raft came floating up like the most innocent thing in the world that she realized she had let herself fall in love with him. She knew this time it would be different, the pain would be more sharp, if only because she had really truly fallen for him, it wasn't the curse forcing her this time.

She only kissed him to shut him up, to keep him from making the same promise the others had made, to keep it from hurting more once he was gone. His look when she pulled away from the kiss broke her heart, he looked like a love struck puppy that just got hit by the master he adored. She turned away before he could see her tears, and it wasn't until she heard him swear on the River Styx, his oath carried on the wind, that she fully realized what had happened. She broke down, right there on the shore, unable to deal with the pain long enough to get to her cave. This was her punishment, this was what she got for defying the gods, she got the runt of a litter of heroes and an immortal life full of pain. She cried herself to sleep that night, and dreamed of him, of how he looked when she first approached him with the fire-proof clothes, bent over his work in such concentration. Of how he watched her when he thought she wasn't looking, of how his lips had felt against hers, and of how she could see her own heartbreak reflected on his face when she pulled away from him for the last time.

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She caught herself weaving clothes for him during the time (days, months, years, seconds, it didn't matter) after he left, making sandwiches for him or calling for him to fix something that broke. She would sit on the ground in silence for a few minutes, tears rolling down her face, until she picked herself back up and went about her business. Tending her garden didn't bring her the happiness it used to, neither did weaving, or anything that normally made her happy. There were entire days she would spend staring off into space, in the camp he had made, or on the beach where he had first landed, staring of out to sea waiting for a boat to appear, or in any number of places on her island he had left his mark.

Eventually, the pain dulled, although it didn't leave, and it was still much stronger than the pain had been for any other hero. Her dreams turned to him coming back, to him holding her in his arms, kissing her, loving her, keeping his promise. At times, she would scream up at the sky, cursing the gods, not for trapping her there, but for giving her the dreams. Her suffering was already great, why did they need to add to it? Was it all some cruel joke to them? Was sending her dreams the way they passed the time on Olympus?

Soon, even the dreams faded, and she had nothing left of him. She didn't know how much time had passed in the mortal world, it was too painful to watch what was going on, and she didn't even know if he had died. She did know that either the demigods had succeeded, or the final battle hadn't happened yet, since she was fairly sure even on her island she would be able to tell Gaea had risen.

One night, she woke up to a face hovering over her, and she let out a scream so loud she was sure even the gods heard it. The face slowly took shape in the darkness, and she recognized the tired face of Leo. She immediately ducked out from under him and ran out of the cave, heading toward the beach. It was just a dream she told herself, I'm not letting myself be fooled this time, it's not real. She could hear him calling behind her, telling her to stop, and she finally did when she reached the beach. The pain in his voice at her running away from him seemed so real, and when she turned around, so did the pain on his face. She suddenly hated the gods, hated them and their entire existence, although she knew deep down without the gods neither of them would be in this position. She hated them with a burning passion for what they had done to him, she would see the tole the battle against Gaea had taken.

She was suddenly in his arms, crying as he held her. He had grown stronger, and slightly taller. He looked like he had finally grown into his age, and she could feel him under her hands and her lips, touching and kissing every bit she could get to without the situation getting awkward. They held each other, and talked about their time apart, filling the blank spaces in for the other. Finally, they lay on the beach, him looking up at the stars, her face buried against his neck, and she whispered three words against his skin. He kissed her cheek, and she could feel the tears against her skin as he whispered the words back, and they held each other tightly, as if they were afraid the other would suddenly disappear.

She had him back, and she wasn't giving him up, not for anything. Not again. He was the first hero to actually win her heart, and he was the first hero to keep his promise and come back for her.


End file.
